Masquerades - Kate Novak [103]
Once more Alias held the key up to her eye. She strode purposefully toward the stone embankment. Olive could detect only slight, irregular frost cracks in the rock. Alias reached out with her hand and touched a spot on the rock. "There's some sort of keyhole here," she said. Then she guided the key to the hand she held on the wall like a woman trying to unlock a door in the dark.
The key slid smoothly into the rock; Alias twisted it, and from beneath the ground came the sound of a huge bolt being thrown.
The erratic pattern of cracks joined in the shape of a rough-hewn door some three feet across by five feet high. The door popped a few inches out of the wall. Dragonbait grasped its edge and muscled it open.
Behind the entrance lay a tunnel several feet wider and higher than the door. Alias looked around. An outcropping of rock in the muddy bank blocked any view from the bridge. The riverbed widened considerably just below the bridge, so no one standing on the opposite shore at night would be able to see more than the light of their lantern. It was a location well hidden in plain sight
Olive thrust her lantern into the inky black tunnel. Brickwork lined the walls, floors, and arched ceiling as far back as they could see. All three adventurers drew their blades and slipped through the door. Dragonbait growled the command for his blade to ignite.
There was a ring attached to the back of the door. Alias gave it a tug, pulling the door nearly closed so that it did not attract visitors behind them, but leaving enough of a gap that they could flee the tunnels easily should the need arise. Then the trio plunged into the darkness.
Thirty feet down, the passage emptied into a larger tunnel with an uneven floor and a canted ceiling cut directly into bedrock. This tunnel appeared to be far older. Along its length were several side passages, all of which were bricked up. The older tunnel went on for some distance straight ahead.
Finally the passage widened slightly. On one side were ten empty sconces, and on the other, ten empty pegs.
"At last we've found the cloak room of the Faceless," Olive joked.
Another ten feet ahead, the passage spilled out into a large vault cut out of the solid stone. The walls were bare, and the furnishing was sparse but impressive: a massive obsidian table streaked with veins of gold, polished to a liquidlike luster. Ten large wooden chairs, five to a side, stood about the table, and at the head, on a raised dais, stood a throne of the same black-and-gold material as the table. On the table sat a brass brazier, unlit but stoked with fresh charcoal. Beside the brazier lay a black cloth covering a small object.
Alias lifted the black cloth. Beneath it was a white porcelain mask, a domino mask painted about the eyes and a glyph on the forehead.
"The mark for Gateside," Alias noted. "Melman's district"
Olive proceeded around the room, tapping the walls and looking for secret access ways.
"Is the Faceless simply letting the others know of Melman's death or informing them that he himself was responsible?" the paladin mused.
Alias shrugged and laid the black cloth back over the mask.
"Yes!" Olive whispered from the wall behind the obsidian throne. She knocked again, and they all heard the distinct hollow sound. Olive could just make out with her fingertips the hair-thin crack that betrayed the edges of a secret passageway. After several minutes searching, though, she was still at a loss for a handhold, button, or switch to open it. Alias pushed on the edges of the door in case it pivoted, but without result.
"Try Melman's key," the halfling suggested.
Alias peered at the closed passage through the handle of the iron key. "Nothing," she reported.
"Guess it was too much to hope that Melman would have access to the Faceless's inner sanctum," the halfling muttered.
"We may need a mage for this," Alias said with a sigh, wondering just how many times she was going to have to go to Mintassan for help.
"Boogers," Olive